


Clocks Against The Sky

by Blanxious13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Isolation, M/M, Male Slash, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quarantine, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Trapped together trope, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanxious13/pseuds/Blanxious13
Summary: "We know this is a terrifying time for all of you, and that with each passing you may feel the need to seek out whatever friends and family that still remain on school grounds. We urge you not to try. The quarantine wards are there not only for your own protection -"
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Clocks Against The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here it is. A Drarry contagion fic from genuine isolation. It was bound to happen eventually. I probably won't be the first or last to write one this year, but I had to throw my hat in the ring as the mood struck me -considering I haven't posted anything in .... gosh, six years? Please be kind as not only is this one of my first multi chaptered fic, it's also the first uploaded piece of my OTP. Shocking, I know, but it's a lot to live up to. So to encourage me to actually keep going for once; please like & review if you enjoy :) I'll be eternally grateful.  
> Updates will be sporadic and a pleasant surprise for me at least, so I'll try my best to keep aboard this train of newfangled inspiration!  
> I hope this keeps any fellow incandescent isolators and quarantine queens entertained throughout this strange and difficult time. This fandom always helped me turn on the light, I would be honoured to add to that tradition.  
> Thanks guys; stay safe, stay inside, keep reading!

"We regret to inform you all, that Dean Thomas, Hannah Abbott & Parvati Patil passed away this morning."

Harry stared at the black patch of wall in front of him. Barely registering the rest of the announcement; as it rang through the now empty halls of Hogwarts. He heard a distant cry, possibly from the library or maybe the great hall? Who knows anymore. It's day 5 of quarantine, and 5 of his friends had died already. As well as 28 other students - including Daphne Greengrass & Theodore Nott from Slytherin House, whom he vaguely conjured up an image of in his head as their names were mentioned on the 2nd day. Professor Flitwick had passed last night, and now...Dean. Just one year, Harry thought, they couldn't have one fucking year of peace. 

"We know this is a terrifying time for all of you, and that with each passing you may feel the need to seek out whatever friends and family that still remain on school grounds. We urge you not to try. The quarantine wards are there not only for your own protection -"  
And that was it really. The only reason that Harry had been sleeping in an alcove behind the Giggling Centaur Tapestry on the fourth floor corridor, for 4 days now. Alone. Because when the news dropped, one of the first things Pomfrey had said was 'this contagion can be carried by any of you, with zero symptoms to show for it.' And Harry had no clue if he might have it. Might be a danger to his friends, again. He wouldn't risk it. He'll die here in the dark, with a school bag for a pillow, waiting for the all clear. If he was still around to hear it.  
Honestly, he wasn't sure that he even wanted to be anymore. At first he had been hopeful, sad, but still with the naive idea that more tragedy couldn't possibly even fit within the confines of his beloved School. No more death. It wasn't until day 3 - when Hagrid's name had been called, in a somehow equally fragile and firm tone - that a part of Harry just gave in. That the reality of it really struck him. That he might not be able to hold on much longer. Not if he had to sit and hear Hermione's name, or Ron's or Ginny's or countless more people he loved. Heck, even people he just passed by in the corridor once.

He had been ready to die before- last year in the forbidden forest, surrounded by phantom trickles of affection and encouragement. That changes a person, he realised more solidly now than he had before. Accepting your fate like that. He just wasn't sure how strong he was without even the faintest apparition.  
This had shaken him more than the Battle had somehow, when it came to senseless casualties, this made the least sense. Random selection. Pure circumstance. Harry couldn't fight a contagion, he was absolutely useless against the forces of nature itself. He had never felt more like a regular teenage boy in his life. He took a sick sort of comfort in that. They really were all in this together: equal. Isn't that what he'd always wanted?

Harry heard footsteps, and panting. It shocked him to the core, because other than the daily updates from McGonagall or Pomfrey, Harry hadn't heard an actual sign of life in days. He dimmed his Lumos and stayed very still. Determined not to look. If he looked, oh Merlin he would be tempted to call out. Or reach out, and that was far too dangerous.

"This is so fucking unfair!" Screeched a male voice that he didn't recognize.

A flash of blue light followed. Harry saw it dance along his periphery, momentarily lighting up the tapestry. Defensive spell, why on earth were people dueling at a time like this?

"Terry, please." A female voice now. Pleading, desperate. 

"What? Why should scum like him be safe and my fucking friends are dead? And war heroes are dropping like flies too! Fucking Thomas is gone, do you know he took a cruciatus for me last year? When that Carrow bitch had already taken a chunk out of my damn leg for 'coughing out of turn'-"

Harry swallowed, he heard the boy's voice crack a little. the girl had started sobbing. He could never hear about last year without flinching, this blood curdling sense of guilt creeping up his spine every time he was reminded of what- and who- they had left behind. It's not like what Hermione, Ron and himself were doing was safe exactly, but still - far enough removed to feel utterly wretched.

"No, I won't calm down!" 

More footsteps. Harry was trying to piece the scene together as quickly as he could without venturing out to look. Terry (Boot he thought now) sounded like the aggressor, so who cast the defensive spell? What the fuck was going on? Did they not realise how risky and selfish this was? A flash of red light and a hiss. Male? Harry thinks, straining his ears.

"Expelliarmus!" Boot yells out. But why though? There was no return hex, as far as Harry could tell. Why is he attacking....oh, fucking idiot. I'm so stupid, he thought. It's got to be a Slytherin. He feels like a complete arsehole, but Harry lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He didn't want whoever Boot was attacking to get hurt, because he was completely done with all this fighting. But he had no clue what this guy might have done to them last year, he could deserve it? It was hardly worth dying for, right? 

"Don't touch it! You imbecile! You might be-" 

"Oh now he speaks!" 

Boot responds, churlishly, but Harry had already drowned him out. He knew that voice without a doubt. That haughty, prissy, bane of his every fucking crisis apparently. 

"Don't worry Malfoy, you won't be getting your hands on it anytime soon anyway. Not like you deserve protection," the boy spat.

So Boot has his wand. Someone else touched his damn wand and now he has no means to magically disinfect it. It's not your problem Harry. He's not your problem. He squeezed his eyes together and tried to ignore the scene. What could Boot do anyway? Murder Malfoy in the school halls? It's not like his lot didn't do exactly that just last year. Harry's mind provided unhelpfully. We're not like them though, he thought, we're not. 

"Come on Terry, he's defenseless now. Can't we just leave?" The girl whined.

Yes Boot. just go. Don't make me get involved, I don't have the energy anymore. Malfoy didn't say anything, this was hardly unusual though. He'd barely bitten back at anyone since they came back, apparently content to just take his punishment. It was pretty unnerving in Harry's eyes. He heard faint angry murmuring and a sharp, hollow sounding laugh. Then footsteps, and finally silence. Harry let out a sigh of relief. 

"Fuck!" Malfoy exclaimed, still from the same spot as before, startling Harry back into the scene. 

Oh yeah. Shit. He can't pick his bloody wand up. Harry almost let himself forget. He wouldn't leave his wand just laying there, and Harry couldn't blame him for it either. Especially as an ex-death eater in a school full of desperate and hostile War survivors, with an unknown magical plague invisibly haunting the halls. Well, now he can hardly stay huddling behind the tapestry, can he? Harry thinks, hoping the answer would suddenly be yes...

"Malfoy?" He croaked, as though he were surprised to see him. 

Harry coughed, realising he hadn't spoken out loud for days. Malfoy meanwhile had jumped and gone to reach for a wand that wasn't there. When the realisation dawned on him, he looked so small, so broken. Like he'd given up too. Just expected to be taken out. Harry's stomach lurched in empathy. He cast the disinfecting charm that Pomfrey had taught them in Tuesday's announcement. Malfoy looked so shocked, and scrambled to pick up his wand immediately after. Only Malfoy could scramble gracefully, Harry thought - rolling his eyes.

"You thought I'd just let you hang around out in the open, wandless?" He was genuinely incredulous.

Harry had saved his life how many times now? Malfoy didn't speak though, just looked at him with this far off serious expression, Like a soldier waiting to be dismissed. 

"Malfoy?" He looked more directly at him this time but his expression barely faltered. Like, it wasn't personal. Like nothing was personal to him anymore. Harry thought he might understand something about that, if he let himself think on it for too long. 

"Do you have a clean space?" He tried not to sound concerned, just matter-of-fact, he didn't know why. Malfoy still didn't reply, it was really starting to piss Harry off now. Fuck this, he's not some quarantine baby-sitter. He lets out an irritable huff and turns to leave.

"I-I was in the library, when it happened. I've just come from there." Harry jumped at the response and turned back around. Curious.

"They will have locked me out by now." He didn't look upset though, he looked like he wasn't bothered at all.

"Then why did you leave?" 

"Are you serious Potter?" But there was no venom there, not like there would have been before. Malfoy just sounded tired.

"I was chased out, by that Boot boy.-"  
He spat the last two words out, staring down the corridor. Then seemed to remember himself, and forced his face back to twisted neutrality.

"Right..." Harry added helpfully.

Just leave, he thought, Malfoy is not your responsibility. Like that ever worked before.

"I searched the perimeter on the 2nd day, The classrooms down that side-" Harry nodded to the left of them. Malfoy seemed to be listening intently. 

"-They're locked up. One of them has a group of Hufflepuff 3rd years in. They're...not all clear, I don't think." 

"How do you-" Malfoy started, but Harry interrupted, not wanting to draw out the shitty parts.

"I had to cast the Patronus, none of them knew how to-"  
"But the stretchers are meant to deal with that, you mean to say you went near a known case Potter??"

"Not near really, but I heard the scream...at around 3 in the morning or so, last rounds had just left and I poked my head out. There was this girl just...shaking outside the room. I couldn't just go back to fucking sleep and let them deal with it, could I? They're thirteen." 

Malfoy frowned a little, but nodded slowly, still looking...curious maybe? Concerned? Probably for his own risk of contamination. Obviously. 

"I stayed at a decent distance Malfoy. I'm safe. Well, safe-ish. I wasn't about to let them wait 2 hours until the next stretcher, was I?"

He was getting pretty disgruntled and defensive now. His stomach hurt too, just normal run of the mill starvation, nothing to be concerned about. It gurgled rather loudly anyway. 

"When is drop off on this floor then?" Malfoy asked, as if it was not at all prompted by the hideous noise Harry's stomach just made. 

"We were supposed to have one an hour ago, but nothing came. I have no clue, honestly. There's usually another at 7...pm. You miss yours?" 

He looked apologetic, Harry was used to going without. You never really lose that resilience. He never would have believed that the Dursley's mistreatment was somehow good practice if you'd told him at age 9, hungry as hell. 

"They...didn't really let me have much." Malfoy shrugged one shoulder, like he was used to the practice as well, but no less hungry for it. 

"Only 3 hours..." 

He tried to be reassuring, but Malfoy didn't seem to hear him. This was a bizarre enough exchange without the slight dizziness now pulling his head about. Malfoy nodded at him, and made to move down the opposite corridor, looking very unsure of himself. 

"Not down there!" Harry said clawing his way back into conscious thought. Malfoy almost leapt out of his skin, wand at the ready, pointing at nothing.

"I'm pretty sure Katie and her lot have the only space down that way..." he trailed off, hoping Malfoy would get the hint. He just looked confused though.

"Katie, Bell. You know. From 6th year. Penchant for cursed necklaces." Harry scowled, of course Malfoy didn't remember the name of the girl he'd almost killed collaterally.

What did he expect? He should have just let him walk into that mess. Served him right. Probably. Only...Malfoy didn't look unaffected. He looked, fucking hopeless.

"Right...I'll take my chances back that way then-"

"The way Boot and that girl just left? Don't be ridiculous, They'll hex you silly if you show your face again." 

Malfoy looked as though he were about to protest, then just ...crumpled. Head hung. This is pitiful, Harry thought. 

"Got any signs?" 

The other boy's head snapped up, as though Harry were threatening him.

"...No." His eyes narrowed, he noticed Malfoy's hand twitched in his pocket. Ready for a fight. Harry sighed.

"I'm not..." He shook his head, annoyed and exhausted. They were at risk out here. Anyone could come round the corner, looking for Malfoy. Stretchers should be about any minute, and Harry hated being around for that.

"Right then. You can stay with me." He turned back towards the Tapestry and took down the glamours and protective charms and repellants. When he was done, he turned to look at Malfoy - who still hadn't moved. A look of sheer disbelief plastered to his face.

"Come on then, it's nearly time for the rounds. Unless you plan on being carted off - I suggest you get a move on." 

"Why?" Malfoy said in such a small voice Harry hardly made it out at all.

"Why would you help me?"

"I don't know Malfoy, because I’m hardly going to let you die when I've got the room, am I? I'm not a monster." Malfoy flinched, as though Harry were directing the word at him. He cast the cleansing charm on himself and went to walk through, not even bothering to look back this time - he wasn't going to beg.

"I'll be putting the precautions back up in a minute, and don't forget to sanitize! I swear Malfoy, if you actually end up being the death of me I'll..." Well he wasn't sure what he'd do. Haunt him, maybe? The Blonde looked plenty haunted enough already. Harry supposed they both were.

Malfoy actually started to move towards the Tapestry, tentatively; maintaining the safe distance. Or, what they'd hoped was safe. Everything was guesswork right now, and people were just trying to make informed decisions on what was best. Everyone except Harry, apparently. Who was now potentially spending his final days rooming with Draco Malfoy in a dark hallway on the fourth floor, trying not to breathe each other in.

This definitely felt like contamination to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case anyone was interested, the title of this fic is inspired by a poem by Robert Frost called 'Acquainted With the Night' that I stumbled across looking for inspiration. It's beautiful and I highly reccomend reading if you wanted to know where my head was at for this. I think it really captures the theme and tone I was driving for in this chapter. :)


End file.
